


Not lost to the sands of time

by Brynnen, TwaCorbies (Brynnen)



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Developing Friendships, Duty, Friendship, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Nova Corps, Post-First Movie, Remembrance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-03-01 19:15:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13301451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brynnen/pseuds/Brynnen, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brynnen/pseuds/TwaCorbies
Summary: In the aftermath of the first movie, Rhomann Dey remembers his friend and finds he's not as alone in this as he might have thought.





	Not lost to the sands of time

**Author's Note:**

> Just my own way of working through the sadness of Saal's death at the end of the first movie.  
> Large chunks of my assumptions and the general vibe of Nova Corps comes from the various fics I've read on this very archive over the past year or so plus several hours scouring the wikis for more information, so if you recognise a detail from someone else's fic that wants attributing, drop me a comment.  
> Generalzero's 'The Only Sane Man' and editoress' 'The Other Guardians' are two stories I particularly enjoyed.

_Miss me?' Rhomann asked teasingly as he almost skipped into work._

  
_'How could I when you never stop bothering me, Dey?' Garthan didn't even look up from his datapad at Rhomann's gleeful entrance._

  
_Rhomann wagged his finger playfully at his friend, dangling the bag of still-hot fried chiltrins under his nose to get his attention. He pouted at Garthan when the Denarian finally looked at him. 'Don't be like that, you'll miss me when I'm gone.'_

  
Rhomann lurched awake, bolt upright in bed, his face wet with tears. It had been a week now... Karman-Kan half-awoke at the jolt and stroked his arm, mumbling something soothing before exhaustion sent her back to sleep. They'd all been working hard to try and get things into a semblance of order; rescuing, rebuilding, policing and trying to recover from the ordeal of only a week ago. They could have all died!

  
That thought had Rhomann swinging his legs over the bed, curling inward with grief. Many had died, too many and it could have been so many more if it hadn't been for the renegade Quill and his weird criminal friends. He let the tears fall as he finally let himself remember the people lost, the bodies he'd helped recover from the rubble, the strangers, colleagues and one man he'd called friend.

  
Some friend he was, not even attending Garthan's interment or the solemnities to honour the siblings of Nova Corps who had died in defence of the planet. Some Denarian he was to miss that! The pragmatic part of his mind (the part that sounded oddly like Saal's deadpan tones) pointed out that his rescue and patrolling work had saved more lives than weeping over the snuffed lights of comrades too dead to appreciate the gesture.

  
Rhomann's hearts twisted in grief at that thought and rationality could go drop into a black hole for all he cared. Garthan was his friend, he'd been one of very few sentients his austere, private friend had trusted and he would mark the man's passing!  
He crept from the bedroom and pulled his dress uniform from the wardrobe, running it and the accompanying boots, harness and cap through the 'fresher to make sure the whole outfit was as pin-neat as Garthan had always been, in or out of uniform.

  
_Rhomann tried to straighten his collar and groaned at the stains and wrinkles in his uniform, the disarray of his hair. The bathroom door creaked and heavy footsteps approached._

  
_'You look like a sack of shit tied in the middle, Dey.'_

  
_Rhomann whirled away from the mirror to face his senior, who as ever looked parade-ground ready, never mind that they'd been up a full cycle and a half processing the mountain of evidence Saal and Lirx had uncovered in the illegal gambling case._

  
_He shrugged helplessly, there was no denying it. 'Just trying to freshen up, Sir, get my mind back on track.'_

  
_'There's a fresh jug of Kaff out if you need a boost, Corpsman. Stay sharp, you know how important this case is.'_

  
_He sure did, 'I want to see these gang wars shut down just as much as you do, Denarian. I'll be back to work in two shakes of a shallain's antenna.'_

  
_He got a nod in response and Saal turned around and left, without taking a leak. Rhomann blinked, had old Rock-Hearts just come to make sure he hadn't passed out?_

  
Rhomann finished fastening his shiny dress boots, checked his reflection critically and resettled his cap at the correct angle. He shut the apartment door behind him quietly and walked down to the conduit stop, pausing to buy two thermal mugs of the Krylorian Kaff that had fueled Garthan and him through far too many long shifts. The vendor looked him over, taking in the shiny uniform's contrast with his grief-hollowed face and shook their head at his credstick.

  
'On the house, Denarian. I nearly lost everything I loved last week, when I saw them Star Blasters link up into a shield I realised how bad I'd taken you guys for granted.'

  
His throat tightened and unable to speak he could only nod his thanks, carrying the mugs carefully to the nearest condit stop. His destination was on the leafy edge of the urban sprawl and the gentle swaying of the transport let his sleep-deprived mind wander.

  
_'You okay, Wvront? You don't look too hot.' The Hraxian looked worn ragged and Rhomann worried about her, still recovering from the gut-shot that had put her out of action for a full deci-orbit._

  
_She snarled, displaying too-pale gums that only made Rhomann feel worse. He knew Wvront hated to display any sign of weakness due to her more primal instincts, but his partner's wellbeing was important._

  
_'Oh for love of shiny little supernovae. Chi'tlt, you're off-duty as of now. Get to the medic and get checked over.' Saal had looked up from his desk at their not-quite-quiet-enough discussion and had lost patience. Or had never had any to start with. The Millenian had a reputation for not suffering fools gladly. He stood at the curl of the Corpsman's lip and loomed over her, not needing to threaten when he outmassed her so much and was so obviously in a better state for a fight than she._

  
_'Yes Millenian.'_

  
_Saal jerked his head at Rhomann. 'Dey, you're with me. You were slated for the Narrows tonight.'_

  
_It wasn't a question, but Rhomann nodded and after checking his nightstick was in place he hurried to catch up to Saal's purposeful stride. He'd had to learn to keep up during Wvront's sick leave._

  
_It was a quiet patrol, the forecast heavy rain keeping the casual foot-traffic indoors even as it chilled them both to the bone. Rhomann was starting to enjoy the silence as he scanned the row of closed shops for any untoward activity when Saal startled him._

  
_'You still drink that oudi muck?'_

  
_'Huh?' He startled and spun to look at Saal in confusion. Saal jerked a thumb at Piril's stand, the only one open at this unreasonable hour and beloved of many a corpsman. 'Oh, uh, Piril's hot oudi never stopped being the best oudi this side of Knowhere.'_

  
_'That swill? Far too sweet.' Saal stepped away and returned in a few moments with two steaming edible cups, handing one to Rhomann. It even had the whipped topping and sprinkles on that he liked, but didn't come as standard. Saal had obviously noticed he always ordered them when he could afford the extra expense. Of course he'd noticed, Rhomann just couldn't believe he'd order them._

  
_The dark odour of that awful Krylorian sludge wafted over to Rhomann and he was glad Saal had thought to ask him what he wanted._

  
_The rest of the shift went well, Rhomann surprised by how reassuring it was to have Saal by his side as they patrolled again and how amusing the man's dry remarks could be._

  
_'You'd think he was trying to pick pockets on a nudist colony, for how hard he's making this look.'_

  
_Rhomann snorted, then moved forward to arrest the would-be thief._

  
The carriage jolted to a halt, shaking Rhomann out of his memory and he stepped off the conduit carriage out into the vast open space of the Nova Corps Memorial. The conduit carried on, it's carriages almost all empty as the sky loomed dark overhead, the western horizon dimly glowing with the dusk of last sunset. Epsilon Quadrant of the planet would lie dark for almost five hours until first sunrise and the Nova Empire's capital stood echoingly quiet under the blackened sky.

  
Huge slabs of stone loomed in the darkness, the golden gilt of countless names shining in the subdued lights marking pathways between them. Rhomann followed the path easily, to the section of the memorial comemorating his own regiment's fallen through their thousand year history.

  
He'd been to the standard orbital remembrance rituals every orbit of his career, had known a few of the names etched into the dark purple stone personally. He'd never come outside of formal regimental business before. Had never really mourned a sibling of the service before; he'd honoured the fallen, remembered them and learnt from their deaths, both heroic and tragically pointless, but this was the first time the path had blurred in his vision and every footstep had made his gut churn.

  
As he rounded the corner of the Second's final memorial he saw that he would not be alone. A fuzzy ear twitched. 'Hey.'

  
'Hey.' Rhomann responded as he joined Rocket in front the of the newest batch of names, their script still dark in the stone. The names would be gilded in the next orbital ceremony as their names and deeds were spoken and witnessed. It might be the first time he joined the silent weepers that always tried to conceal their grief at the ceremony, usually children or siblings of a fallen comrade.

  
Rhomann looked to the shorter sentient then back to the Kaff he'd carried all the way over. Rocket looked tired and Garthan was dead. 'Want this?'

  
Rocket took it from him wordlessly, curling his digits around the cup and sniffing the steam. 'Krylorian Kaff?'

  
Rhomann took a sip of the horribly bitter-sour drink and grimaced. 'It was his favourite. He drank gallons of the stuff.'

  
'Urgh, that explains the sour look on his face. I never met a sentient more determined not to enjoy himself.' Rocket grimaced at the flavour after he took a long pull of the drink.

  
Rhomann had heard it a thousand times before, had heard every uncomplimentary nickname from Pillar of Salt down. He was used to it, even when it made him want to punch the ungrateful bastards who dared say that about one of the most dedicated Corps members he'd had the honour of serving alongside.

  
'I was on the comm with him when he died.' Rocket blurted into the quiet. 'He yelled out my name as they crushed him, knew that it would kill him but he still held that fucking barrier until he couldn't any more.' He sounded shaken, then tried to cover it up by taking another sip of the Kaff. 'Phwoargh, that stuff is rank!'

  
Rhomann smiled, took another sip of his mug before dipping his finger in the hot brew and tracing Garthan's name with it, smearing the sharply graven words so they shone in the low light. 'It sure does, a nasty drink for a hard-bitten son of a waarg. He didn't do sweet or soft, but he lived to serve and he died in the only way I can imagine him going. I miss him.'

  
'Me too, Dey and ain't that a shocker.' The little jailbird set down the mug and straightened up with purpose. He looked straight up at the newly chiselled name and gave it a sharp nod. 'I proved ya wrong Saal, just wish you were here for me ta rub yer nose in it. 'Bye.'

  
Rhomann listened to the footsteps fade and then chuckled softly. 'I told you so.'

  
_The ship was limping along on the last line of back-up boosters and Saal's dark hair was plastered to his head with a mixture of sweat and blood as he manually guided the ruined Star Blaster towards the nearest Nova base, through a minefield of their own making. They picked their way through the debris of the fleet of Kree separatists they'd prevented from ambushing them, at the cost of Saal's Star Blaster._

  
_'How did you even know that would work?'_

  
_Saal raised his eyebrows, the motion dislodging several flakes of blood. 'Centurian Srieb, Siege of Colpru.'_

  
_The lack of a date in his citation of the case report made Rhomann wonder how badly injured Saal was, but he didn't dare ask. Instead he cast his mind back through the many texts he'd had to pore through during basic training. He couldn't recall it._

  
_'Do you even have a life, Sir?' He'd blame the head injury if it came to a disciplinary. He couldn't remember that corpsman, let alone the particulars of that siege._

  
_Saal's mouth twitched. 'You're a corpsman, Dey, you signed the same declaration as I. A corpsman's life is the service of Nova Corps.'_

  
_That stuff was for the holos, Rhomann was in the Corps to protect, to serve, to do his part in keeping the citizens of the Nova Empire safe, sure, but there was this gorgeous Krylorian girl he was seeing... The Corps wasn't actually his life and he didn't know anyone other than Saal for whom it was._

  
_'Ah well, it could be worse.' Rhomann recalled his mother's words. 'There could be snakes in with us.'_

  
_Seal snorted, the edges of his mouth lifting slightly and Rhomann grinned back at him, spirits lifting in the face of the absurd situation they were in. They were less than a cycle from suffocation, trapped at least a day from port and soaked to the skin._  
_'Right, that's enough whingeing. Let's get this crate home. The service can have my life some other time. Exnav suits on and then let's get on with it.'_

  
'How many times did you pull that stunt with the fire extinguishers anyway?' Rhomann asked the silent stone with a chuckle. With a groan he sat down before his friend's name and sipped again at the dreadful kaff to wet his lips before the next memory occurred to him.

  
'Hey, Garthan, remember that illegal waarg breeder we had to bring in?'

  
The sky grew lighter along with his mood as Rhomann let the memories flow and at last he stood, ass numb and nearly bumped into Peter 'Star Lord' Quill who gaped at him.

  
'Saal did all that?'

  
Rhomann just chuckled, pleased that Garthan's stories had been heard. He clapped the young saviour on the shoulder. 'You have no idea, my friend.' And that was probably how Garthan would have wanted it, but it made Rhomann glad that he wasn't alone in marking the man's passing.


End file.
